


Spring Colors Worn in Summer

by sweettasteofbitter



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Clothing, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22022167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweettasteofbitter/pseuds/sweettasteofbitter
Summary: Cassandra has a fond memory of a certain item of clothing. Josephine is willing to indulge.
Relationships: Josephine Montilyet/Cassandra Pentaghast
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	Spring Colors Worn in Summer

**Author's Note:**

> A vignette that I finished a long time ago but have edited plenty of times since. I hope you enjoy this little snippet of fluff!

“Do you remember the dress you wore to Lord Armitage’s garden party last summer?”

Cassandra spoke quietly, and she almost didn’t dare to move, lest Josephine would notice how her scarred cheek was rubbing against her breast. They were curled up in bed together, warm, intimate, and not yet in the mood for sleep.

The silk of a new nightgown underneath Cassandra’s cheek and fingers had prompted her to start thinking about Josephine’s clothing in general. Before she knew it, Cassandra had been caught unawares by a certain fond memory that involved the promise of soft, brown skin surrounded by rose bushes.

It seemed so long ago, even though it hadn’t taken long for Cassandra’s feelings for Josephine to evolve from something raw and confusing into something clear and comforting.

Josephine pondered on the question for a few seconds, a wrinkle appearing in her brow.

“I think I remember. Was it the sky blue dress with the sequined sleeves? No, I wore that to another outdoors gathering, and then the skirt was torn when it got caught on a bush. I have not yet had the time to mend it. Then, no. I’m stumped. Which one do you mean?”

“It was some sort of pink and it did not have sleeves,” Cassandra helped her.

“Oh, the mauve taupe one? With the low cut at the back?” Josephine’s eyes lit up. Cassandra frowned, uncertain if they were describing the same color, but Josephine remained completely oblivious to Cassandra’s confusion. “Now I remember, yes, it was that one! Why the mention of that dress?”

“Because I was reminded how beautiful you were while wearing it. You had your back turned to me a lot that night, and it must have been the first time I felt my attraction to you manifest itself so obviously.” Cassandra bit her lip. “I did not quite know what to do with myself.”

Josephine gracefully ignored the way Cassandra’s voice got stuck in her throat at the memory. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to Cassandra’s mouth, expressing her gratefulness for Cassandra’s honesty.

“Do you want me to put it on for you?” Josephine asked.

Cassandra’s eyes grew wide, her cheeks warm.

“What? Right now?”

“Yes, right now. What are your objections?”

“It is _evening_ ,” Cassandra protested, but she knew the battle had already been lost.

“You really are dreadful at allowing yourself pleasure.” Josephine hoisted her legs over the edge of the bed. She made her way over to the mahogany wardrobe in the corner of the room.

“Perhaps I would be better at it, if you did not tease me so,” Cassandra said, but they both knew it was all in jest, and Josephine merely smiled in response.

“Promise me you won’t look until I say so?” Josephine said, and Cassandra could hear the tremble of impish excitement in her voice.

Cassandra rolled over obediently. All she heard was the rustling of fabric as Josephine took off her nightgown and put on the dress. Cassandra imagined Josephine appreciating herself in the mirror before turning her attention to Cassandra.

“You are allowed to look again,” Josephine said, and Cassandra did.

It was exactly how she remembered it, the dress having its only fastening around Josephine’s neck, leaving her shoulders and the entire expanse of her back open to the air. The skirt was smooth and long, the hem draped onto the floor. The color complemented Josephine’s skin perfectly, and the fabric clung to her in certain obvious places. Every time Josephine moved even slightly, there was a different spot that drew attention, so that Cassandra could not take her eyes off her.

“Cassandra,” Josephine looked over her shoulder. “I want you to come here and show me exactly what you thought of doing that night.”

The heat crept over Cassandra’s neck, her shoulders, into the pit of her stomach. In her haste to get up she almost tumbled off the bed, so clumsy and hot her limbs felt. She approached Josephine and hesitantly reached for her shoulders, hands afloat in the air as she made an observation.

“I think you were wearing your hair up,” she mumbled.

“ _Cassandra_ ,” Josephine said with fond exasperation, brushing her hair over her shoulder and leaving her back bare. “That is hardly relevant.”

“Ugh,” Cassandra grumbled, because she was not sure where to begin.

Early on in their courtship, Josephine had made it clear that Cassandra would have to try very hard to disappoint her. Remembering this, Cassandra put her hands on the width of Josephine’s waist, and felt the familiarity and comfort of her curves underneath the rosy silk. Josephine leaned back against her, solid and wonderful, and Cassandra rested her forehead against the crown of Josephine’s head. Her eyes were closed, and she breathed unevenly.

Cassandra bent down and dragged her nose and mouth across Josephine’s freckled shoulder. She took a small step back, and simply _looked_.

She had chided herself back then, in the sultry summer’s breeze. She had tried not to stare, but in the end she had lost to her own budding desires. There was no denying that she had thought, fantasized even, about doing this with Josephine while she was wearing this dress.

And now she could.

Cassandra grew more confident, moving her hands and covering as much of Josephine’s skin as possible. She let her fingers dance up the staircase of Josephine’s spine, and her hands flared out across Josephine’s shoulder blades like wings unfurling, a bird in flight. Josephine hummed loudly, sweetly, craning her neck in an incredibly distracting way.

Emboldened by Josephine’s reaction, Cassandra pried one of Josephine’s arms loose from her side and lifted it, stroking light fingertips across the landscape of Josephine’s shoulder, her upper arm, the dip of her elbow. She kissed Josephine’s wrist before pressing her mouth to her knuckles.

“I would have done all of these things, and more,” Cassandra said hoarsely. Josephine’s unoccupied hand fluttered to her mouth, but she was smiling, intrigued.

“What do you mean ‘more’?”

Cassandra reeled Josephine in and kissed her deeply. She stroked her hands down Josephine’s bare back, her heart beating rapidly against her ribcage. Her hands grew unsteady as they moved lower. Her fingers forayed into the dress, ghosting over Josephine’s backside. She realized Josephine was wearing nothing at all underneath the garment, not even her usual frilly smallclothes.

Josephine leaned back just a little, her breath still palpable on Cassandra’s face. Her voice had changed, grown sweeter, lower.

“I suggest you take this dress off of me, before I tear this one too.”

Cassandra swallowed. She was so overwhelmed by her love for Josephine that she was prepared to do anything. Her hands moved to Josephine’s neck, to the fastening of her dress.

“Turn around, then.”


End file.
